#AmericanWriters
601 A still—Volcano—Life— That flickered in the night— When it was dark enough to do Without erasing sight—
XLI THE soul unto itself Is an imperial friend,— Or the most agonizing spy An enemy could send.
DEAR March, come in! How glad I am! I looked for you before. Put down your hat— You must have walked—
407 If What we could—were what we wou… Criterion—be small— It is the Ultimate of Talk— The Impotence to Tell—
121 As Watchers hang upon the East, As Beggars revel at a feast By savory Fancy spread— As brooks in deserts babble sweet
65 I can’t tell you—but you feel it— Nor can you tell me— Saints, with ravished slate and pe… Solve our April Day!
This is the land the sunset washes… These are the banks of the Yellow… Where it rose, or whither it rushe… These are the western mystery! Night after night her purple traff…
676 Least Bee that brew— A Honey’s Weight Content Her smallest fraction hel… The Amber Quantity—
Silence is all we dread. There’s Ransom in a Voice - But Silence is Infinity. Himself have not a face.
86 South Winds jostle them— Bumblebees come— Hover—hesitate— Dri nk, and are gone—
Love—is that later Thing than Dea… More previous—than Life— Confirms it at its entrance—And Usurps it—of itself— Tastes Death—the first—to hand th…
52 Whether my bark went down at sea— Whether she met with gales— Whether to isles enchanted She bent her docile sails—
839 Always Mine! No more Vacation! Term of Light this Day begun! Failless as the fair rotation
752 So the Eyes accost’—and sunder In an Audience’— Stamped’—occasionally’—forever’— So may Countenance
479 She dealt her pretty words like B… How glittering they shone— And every One unbared a Nerve Or wantoned with a Bone—
